


fatality is like ghosts in the snow

by urieskooki



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Gen, I'm Sorry, POV Urie, Unhappy Ending, rly rly faint shiraurie tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urieskooki/pseuds/urieskooki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sick thud of bodies hitting the hard ground finally registers, and Kuki realises with a kind of gut-wrenching dread that it's not just their opponent that fell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fatality is like ghosts in the snow

**Author's Note:**

> i m s o r r y

Kuki doesn’t know how long he’s been crying, _a couple of minutes, maybe_ _…? Or is it a few hours_ _…?_ He doesn’t _think_ he’s screaming anymore, though he can’t really hear anything over the blood rushing through his ears.

Death likes to take away the people you care about, but then again, he’s always known this since his father died. _Time supposedly heals all wounds but why does this deep hole cut out of him feel like it_ _’s being forcibly held open?_

Why couldn' _t it have been someone else?_

But, contrary to popular belief, he wouldn’t wish this kind of pain on _anyone_ except the bastard who caused it. _That fucker, Noro._

Yeah, they killed him but it would be worth it if they’d let him escape just so _this_ wouldn’t have happened. Kuki could’ve killed him next time they came up against him, next time he’d stop anything that might lead to _this._ This hole in his chest, these tears stinging his eyes so badly he has to shut them, this ringing in his ears that he can’t escape, this _numbness_ that has infected the tips of his fingers and toes and sits heavily between and behind his eyes. This _helplessness._

Saiko and Mutsuki apologise but it’s still not enough _._ He punches a wall and the sting still isn’t _fucking enough_.

It all hurts too much and not enough at the same time and he can’t help but feel he deserves this kind of unknown pain. Maybe it’s payback for all the shit he’s done.

But Shirazu’s gone _._

In other words, torn in half with no way of salvaging his remains.

In other words, _dead._

The worst part is that Kuki’s never felt so _defeated_ even with a victory like this. A victory for the CCG, AKA the reason Shirazu’s dead, AKA the reason Kuki hasn’t been able to breathe properly since he saw the body hit the ground and realised _he_ _’s not in one piece, oh my god, he_ _’s not in one **piece.**_

He knows that it’s not something he can fix, even if he did spend a few minutes beating at Shirazu’s bloodied, slowly cooling, _motionless_ chest in hopes his heart would start beating again. He’s always had a fast recovery time, maybe keeping him alive would be enough to make that kick in.

It wasn’t.

He’d watched that bandaged bitch collect Noro’s body, too exhausted to stop her, and the pain in his stomach didn’t even _exist_ when he looked down and saw those blank eyes staring off into space.

He’s accustomed to death, living a life like this means you have to get _used_ to death because you know you’ll be experiencing it whether you want to or not.

He remembers quite clearly kissing Shirazu’s brow covered in a thin veil of cold sweat and he wishes it had been warm. As disgusting as it would have been it would have meant he’d be _alive._ And as much as it pains him to admit, Kuki would trade almost _anything_ to bring Shirazu back.

Even his own life.

There’s a name on his lips like a mantra, leaving them over and over again, clinging to his tongue tight enough to hurt, “Shirazu, Shirazu, Shirazu, _please.”_ He’d stopped when his voice gave out but it’s still there enough for him to want to say it regardless of whether he can or not.

“Don’t die,” “Don’t be _dead.”_ “Don’t leave me.”

But there’s never been a goddamn person alive (and dead) who hasn’t, and Shirazu’s no fucking exception.

It’s not like he’s as completely destroyed inside as it seems _(Liar)_ it’s just hard to find someone as easy to work with as it is with Shirazu _(Stop lying, Kuki)._

Stop _lying._

If he stops lying to himself, he can’t pretend that he didn’t spend ten minutes cradling Shirazu to his chest like crushing the air out of his own lungs would help push air into Shirazu’s. If he stops lying to himself, he can force himself to look at the blood on his hands and admit that he cares how it got there. If he had only _stopped_ lying to himself, he could have said what he’d wanted to say before that fight.

Four simple words.

“I care about you.”

He does, god, he _does_ with everything he has except that wasn’t enough and he’s trapped in his own chest now, tortured, choking screams fighting their way up his throat where he can let them curdle on his tongue rather than let them out. They taste bitter _._

So instead of saying it to Shirazu when he was alive, Kuki whispers it to his corpse somewhere between watching it fall and watching it be shut away in a van where he knows it’ll be picked apart and inspected until he barely looks like himself beneath the incisions and microscopes.

The Quinx are valuable, this he knows. He’d just rather Shirazu have a proper burial somewhere other than a scientist’s table, because really, he won’t be leaving it in one piece.

Not that he went in one piece, anyway.

So instead, Kuki cries behind closed doors, and pretends he hasn’t, and lashes out at Saiko, at Mutsuki, at Takeomi, at anyone who’ll try to talk about it with him. With Sasaki disappeared there’s no one that he’d want to at _all._

He builds up his wall again, and pretends that being behind it isn’t lonely, and pretends he doesn’t catch himself outside Shirazu’s doors the nights he can’t sleep, and pretends he doesn’t wrap his arms around himself in a poor imitation of the embrace of a shivering man plagued by nightmares.

He’s _good_ at pretending even if he is out of practice.

He’ll get better though, after all, he’s had years to perfect it.

Who cares if he adds another couple regardless of whether he wants to or not?

Who cares if his form of defence mechanism leaves him isolated and aching because at least he’s _safe,_ just hurting.

He doesn’t _need_ companionship.

He can pretend until it _doesn’t_ hurt anymore.

He can pretend he doesn’t still leave his door unlocked when he sleeps in case Shirazu wants to crawl in behind him and simply rest his ear against Kuki’s back just to feel him breathe.

Never did he think he’d ever miss something as mundane as _that._

Never did he realise that you don’t necessarily have to _fall_ in love with someone to _love_ them until he let Shirazu through the cracks in his defence and realised loving isn’t the same as being _in_ love but he was pretty damn close to it.

Given enough time he _could’ve_ fallen in love with Shirazu but now he doesn’t even have the chance to.

_“Don’t you fucking die on me.”_

_(Don’t you fucking abandon me)._

_You can’t._

Except he did _._ He’s _gone._

And no amount of mourning will bring him back.

**Author's Note:**

> i swear that i predicted chap 55 tho bc i wrote the start of this when chap 54 came out and then this shit happened. i'm not v happy rn bc i love shirazu so much and i also love urie and i don't want him to be hurting pls someone just wrap him up in a large fluffy blanket. i volunteer shirazu  
> lmao im suffering as you could probably tell  
> also i hc that the closer they got, shirazu would just kind of sneak into urie's room bc pressing his head to urie's back made him feel a bit more grounded and like he was _there ___yaknow  
> 


End file.
